


Unsolicited

by distantfridays



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Hetersexuality was never an option, Homosexuality, M/M, Mind Games, Sexual Innuendo Abounds, Sleepiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-11
Updated: 2011-07-11
Packaged: 2017-10-21 06:14:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distantfridays/pseuds/distantfridays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik can be a ridiculous tease when he wants to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unsolicited

It is four o’clock in the morning, and Charles is completely and utterly tired of working on his research. He’s stripped to the waist, clad only in loose cotton sleeping pants, and the spring chill is starting to get to him. His office is the only illuminated place in the entire damn house, with all the children gone to bed hours ago.

But he’s got to finish this now, or he never will.

He pauses a moment, sipping his mint tea and rolling his chair back from his desk to glare out the window. The sun will be rising soon, and then yet another day of teaching genetics and philosophy to his students will begin.

 _no rest for the wicked, Charles?_ The thought tears him from his contemplations of locking himself in his office and never coming out, and he twists in his chair to glower at the man standing in the doorway.

“I thought you went to sleep.” There’s a faint accusatory note in the statement, and Erik rolls his eyes at him.

 _i did. you’ve been broadcasting your irritation for the past hour._ He walks into Charles’s office, brushing aside the stack of books on his desk to lean against the edge of it. “I’m sure the children will complain of terrible, annoying dreams of homework when they’re up.”

Charles scowled up at him, checking his mental shields before swearing. “Sorry… I… It’s just so _tedious_ , Erik. Why is America so damn big?” He pouts, gesturing vaguely at the books. “I’ve been looking at maps. People in this blasted country seem to think that “the next town over” means any town within fifty miles, and the coordinates from Cerebro-“

“Can wait until you’re not irritated and half-asleep?”

“ _You_ are telling _me_ to stop working?” Charles narrows his eyes, squinting in the dim light.

 _astonishing, isn’t it? you’re going to strain your eyes, where are your reading glasses?_ Erik pats his shoulder with a smirk, pushing away from the desk to search through the top drawer.

“They make me feel _old_.” Charles really shouldn’t sound so petulant. Or plaintive. He’s got an _image_ to maintain, after all.

“You’re ridiculously childish when you’re tired. Come to bed.” Welcoming images of their bed, stacked high with pillows and sheets tangled around bared limbs, flooded Charles’s mind.

“And you’re ridiculously persistent. I have work to do.” He can’t believe he’s doing this. Charles is the one who’s supposed to bully Erik out of work. Not the other way around.

“I could force you.”

“I could make you believe that you’re a chicken and have you making farm animal noises for the rest of your life.”

Erik gives a put-upon sigh, hands settling on Charles’s shoulders. “Then who would you get to bugger you senseless?”

“Do shut up, will you?” But he was smiling, head lolling as Erik’s fingers threaded through his hair.

 _you look exceptionally adorable with those on, you know._ Erik floods him with images of him as a schoolboy (or what he imagines to be him as a schoolboy, because Charles never wore his trousers quite as low as Erik has them), and Charles snorts.

The images become impressively lewd, with trousers pooled at ankles and bodies bent over desks and pressed against doorframes.

“Pervert.”

Erik kisses him, and he can feel his grin.

And, abruptly, he tears away and saunters out of the room.

 _where are you going?_

 _don’t you have to work, Charles? pity._

He’s going to kill Erik one of these days.

**Author's Note:**

> This drabble is a gift for fadingsundays @ livejournal, who requested:
> 
> glasses, spring, mint, and cotton.  
> Charles/Erik.


End file.
